


Homecoming

by official-squints (spinalcord)



Series: When Your Lover Has Gone [2]
Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, Game Spoilers, Non-canonical elements, References to Depression, References to PTSD, Romance, Sex, Smut, True Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-04
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-01-29 02:43:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 19,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12621368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinalcord/pseuds/official-squints
Summary: Dying to know what happened to her old hometown, Alex and Mac travel cross-country to Texas, where they spend an interesting few days before an odd new symptom forces her to locate a doctor. Unable to find help, the pair is directed to a group of brilliant doctors in Mexico. Only problem is, these 'wonder' doctors are difficult to find, and Mac begins to think that maybe the stories are too good to be true.





	1. Kiss an Angel Goodmorning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is Part 2 of my series, When Your Lover Has Gone. If you're new, please give Part 1 a read first, otherwise I'm afraid you'll get lost here! To everyone else, welcome back!

The sound of a car door slamming shut – an odd sound, two centuries after the war – echoed up the side of the house as Alex stepped out onto the gravel driveway. Spots of rust ate away at the once shiny, black paint and the hood of the ’77 Corvega had been ripped away to make room for a new engine, one that would actually work. She and Sturges had spent weeks pulling apart an old sentry bot and putting its parts back together to build a working engine that ran off fusion cores and a little bit of coolant. But even with its less-than-perfect appearance, she was incredibly proud of the fact that she had a real, _working_ car, one that could take her and Mac across the country back to her home state. Oh, and Dogmeat, too.

“Rob! Rooooooob!” she called up in sing-song, staring intently at the bedroom window. The curtains drifted a bit, but he gave no answer. She picked up a small rock but thought better of throwing it, instead letting it tumble from her palm.

It was May, a whole year after… Well, after Duncan. He hadn’t left the bedroom all week, except occasionally to go up to the attic while she was sleeping. Today was the first day Alex had left him alone, just to pick up the car from Sturges at Starlight Drive-In, and now she was worried that maybe she should have stayed. A tiny thread of black panic worked its way into her chest as she wandered up the porch and into the living room, searching every corner for him. The cats, Mr. Pickles and Bootsie, mewed indifferently as she passed. Well, if they didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, maybe everything was alright.

The creak of the stairs sounded explosively loud in the quiet house and she suddenly realized that he had turned the downstairs radio off. Weird. They usually kept it going 24/7, half to keep the creaking to a minimum and half to keep raiders away. The bedroom door at the top of the stairs was shut but not locked and Alex knocked softly before poking her head inside.

Mac sat loosely cross-legged on the floor, his head leaned back against the bed in just the right way to catch a beautiful stream of sunlight filtering through the window. With his eyes closed, she silently admired how the sun caught each of his long, curled lashes, turning them a brilliant gold. The bright light perfectly outlined the curve of his nose, the fullness of his parted lips, a fluff of cowlick, the hollows of his cheeks. He seemed simultaneously old and wise but also young, almost like a child, although she knew in her mind that he would soon be 24.

“Wha’s that noise?” he mumbled. It startled her, especially considering he never moved or opened his eyes to look at her. Only his lips moved slowly as he spoke. “Was that you?”

“Yeah, it was the car. It’s parked outside, if you want to come see it,” she answered, gently tilting her head. When he still didn’t move or say anything for a while, she bit her lip. Maybe this was asking too much of him. “It’s okay if you don’t. I just wanted to offer. Do y-”

Mac shook his head, almost too sluggishly to really be a gesture, and finally looked up at her. “No, I want to come see. Sorry. I didn’t sleep much last night and I’m really tired today.”

The look on his face as they stepped out onto the driveway wasn’t exactly what she was hoping for, but at least her smile was big enough to cover both of them. His smile only grew a tiny bit bigger when he saw how excited she was, but he never seemed to show much more than polite interest as she walked him around the Corvega, pointing out things here and there. Alex had scavenged some good seats and other interior parts from the Corvega factory in Lexington, so the inside of the car was actually quite nice. She’d also installed a shotgun mount on the passenger side in case they ever came across any raiders, and the back seat was replaced with a giant doggie bed. Behind the car was a refurbished trailer she had “borrowed” from Fiddler’s Green and that was what really caught Mac’s eye.

“You remembered what I said, huh?” He laughed quietly, opening up the door of the midnight blue trailer to see a couch, bedspread, and curtains made of faux leopard print. The rest of the trailer had been fixed up to match. “I like it. Still a little worried about the car - y’know, driving and all. But you’re serious about going?” Mac said, turning around to face her.

Alex nodded and locked the door to the trailer. “Yeah, I do still wanna go, see what it’s like now. Not right this minute, though. I know you’re still having a rough time, so I’ll leave it up to you to decide when, but I think a vacation will take your mind off of it. It’ll be away from here and fun and…” she trailed off, shrugging. Maybe she shouldn’t have described it as “fun” to him, although that’s what it would be. A fun trip. Not like the jittery, over-excited trip to the Capital Wasteland or the near silent trip back.

“June. Let’s go the first week of June,” he said after a long pause.

“Are you sure? That’s barely two weeks from now.”

Mac nodded slowly but confidently. “Yeah, I’m sure. Only plans I had were to lay around and get drunk, but I guess it might be nice to do that somewhere new.” He looked at the ground for a while, like he was thinking about something important that needed all of his focus. Alex waited silently for what felt like several minutes before he sighed. “I have to get over Duncan eventually, right?”

***

Dressed in sunglasses and cool, summery alternatives to their usual outfits, they packed all the things they could fit into the trailer. The rest of their bags were stuffed into the trunk of the Corvega. Dogmeat barked happily as he got comfy in the backseat while Mac checked to make sure the house was locked up tight. All the turrets on the roof and the porch chugged along, as if vowing to protect the house while they were gone. Once everything seemed good, they slid into the front of the car with smiles on their faces and Alex pulled the key from her breast pocket.

“We’re not gonna… _crash_ … right?” he asked sheepishly, clenching his jaw.

“Of course, not! Besides a couple ghouls, I’m probably one of the last people to have a real driver’s license.” She chuckled as the Corvega roared to life, then quieted into an almost inaudible hum. Truthfully, she’d had her license suspended after the wreck that paralyzed her, but that didn’t mean she had entirely lost the muscle memory. “We’ll be fine, I promise. The worst thing that could happen is the motor blowing out, or maybe getting lost. Most of the highways are destroyed now, so I’ll have to take a lot of detours.”

The smile slipped from his face as he nodded. “As long as you don’t kill me. I don’t think I could forgive you if you drive us off a cliff or something.”

“I’ll do it while you’re asleep,” she said, waving a hand at him. Then they both burst out laughing and Dogmeat joined in with a couple little yips of his own. “But, seriously… You’re still sure you want to go now? Right now?”

“Yes, right now,” Mac said, almost indifferently. He sure didn’t seem too excited about going anywhere, but if he wanted to go now, then she wasn’t going to force him to wait. As she shrugged, he slid his sunglasses up the bridge of his nose and leaned back into the seat, staring out the passenger window. Maybe he was just trying to hide how nervous he was. Occasionally, she would forget how foreign some of her everyday things were to him, and now that she thought of it, almost everything they would be doing on the trip was going to be strange and new to him. “You think a deathclaw would try to chase us?”

Alex laughed again as she backed the car into the street. “Oh, yeah! But this thing can go faster than a stupid ‘claw.” That answer made him toss her a skeptical look of disapproval and she laughed even louder. “I swear! This thing could reach a hundred-fifty miles-an-hour easily, even as old as it is. A deathclaw could go maybe… I dunno, thirty-five or forty at a full-on run. It definitely couldn’t go a hundred-fifty. Even if it could keep up close to the car, it would tire out faster,” she reasoned, nodding once.

But that didn’t seem to put him at ease, either. In fact, he seemed terrified now. “How fast is a hundred-fifty miles-an-hour?”

“Fast. Very fast.”

“How fast are we going to be driving the whole way? _That_ fast?”

“Eh, probably about ninety-five or so,” she said casually. And that was slow for most highways pre-war. “We won’t go top speed much, if at all, so it doesn’t burn the cores out too quickly.”

They were heading out alongside the train tracks now, nearly popping up to the ceiling from all the bumpiness. A tiny whine she thought was from Dogmeat turned out to be coming from Mac and she gently patted his hand as he grasped at anything he could get a hold on. He was trembling lightly, enough to make her wonder again whether or not this was something they should have waited on. It wasn’t until they reached the southern border of the Commonwealth that the dirt began to even out, easing some of the tension inside the car. He continued to stare fixedly out the passenger window for the first few silent hours, arms crossed tightly over his chest, but at least they were still moving without any complaints.

***

Faded yellow and orange paint clung to the towering woman and her rather odd-looking child in large, haphazard patches. It was obvious that no one had been out to care for the strange statue since before the war, but it was almost a miracle that it was still standing. It wasn’t even that badly defaced by raiders! Beside Alex, Mac looked the statue over with a sneer, clearly not as amused by the old roadside attraction as she was.

“Why does the kid look like… a man? Where the hell is the doll’s fuc- freakin’ head?” he asked, frowning.

“I don’t know what happened to the head. It wasn’t there when I saw it before, either,” Alex said, unable to bite back her laughter. “What, are you not having any fun?”

He shrugged, kicking some pebbles away. They rolled toward the base of the statue, revealing a few holes in the wood. “I mean, what’s the point?”

Ah, there was his “what’s the point?” thing all over again. If it wasn’t something that made him caps or gave him a chance to kill somebody, then he most likely wasn’t going to be interested. He’d said the same about the trip in general and now he was going on about it again. Can’t stop there, because there’s no point. Can’t go look at that, because there’s no point. No point in taking the scenic route (there was no “scenic” route anymore, she discovered) and no point in going out of the way to get to a settlement, because they had the trailer, so why’d they have to stop somewhere populated to spend the night. It wasn’t _annoying,_ per se, but that didn’t stop her from rolling her eyes every time he said it now.

“The _point,_ goofball, is that it’s neat to look at it. Neater than looking at dirt and dry tallgrass.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s neat. Kinda creepy, actually,” Mac said. Then he leaned against the side of the car, lit a cigarette, and stared off into space as he smoked. “Where are we going next?”

On the other side of the car, Alex reached inside to grab her cigarettes. Might as well smoke before they left. “There are a few other random things that might still be around that we’ll stop at, and then after that or if those things aren’t around anymore, we’re going to an old tourist town in North Carolina that has lots of stuff to look at,” she said, hoping that was a satisfactory answer.

“What other random things could be out here to look at? Are they as creepy as this thing?” He gestured toward the woman statue with another sneer.

“There used to be a spaceship somewhere around here-”

“NO! No, I mean… Let’s, um, hurry and get to North Carolina. That sounds way more fun,” he cried, offering her an unconvincing grin. “The spaceship sounds kind of… lame. I’d rather go somewhere else…”

There wasn’t a spaceship nearby, at least not one that she knew of, but that little jump and the look of wide-eyed horror that flashed across his face for a split second was adorable. And even if there _was_ a fake spaceship around, she wouldn’t drag him there. That would just be mean. Besides, she didn’t want to be stuck in the car for too long and they were already coming to the end of their first day.

Once Dogmeat had gotten a bathroom break and they had finished their cigarettes, all three of them climbed back into the car and headed out again. This part of town was too infested with raiders to stick around for the night, so Alex had marked a spot on the map that used to be an old camping ground. Mac complained for a bit about yao guais but she wouldn’t hear it. Waving a finger at him, she banned any more negative talk. Only positive things until they got to the camp ground, and she was already considering banning it outright for the rest of the drive.

Half an hour later, they pulled into a dusty gravel lot that hadn’t seen a set of tires since before the war. Weeds and long tufts of grass poked up here and there between the pebbles, waving in the beams of the headlights as the Corvega passed. Three dilapidated cars sat facing a line of mutated pine trees, their occupants long-dead. As far as the two of them could tell, there wasn’t anyone or anything around. Alex drove past the owner’s cabin and through a wide-open gate to a little dirt trail snaking through a thick line of trees. At the bottom was a flat overlook, big enough for several trailers. Only one was still left, its flat tires half-buried in the mud.

Alex parked alongside a picket fence at the edge of the cliff and turned off the engine. Surely to any sane person, the fence was far too low to be considered a safety feature; it would barely have come up to her waist. There was one tiny sign warning them about the cliff, but other than that, nothing else was stopping them from tumbling right over the edge. She wondered if she should move the car a bit further away, but Mac was already climbing out with Dogmeat at his heels.

He stretched and wandered toward the fence while Alex went to the trunk of the Corvega and rifled through the bags for the camping stove. Tucked beside that were some cans of brahmin meat that she took out to make dinner, plus one can of dog food. Then she hopped over the trailer hitch and walked about halfway to the fence to start setting up the campfire. It didn’t occur to her until she was nearly done lining up rocks that, while he’d enjoyed a campfire before, he’d never had a _vacation_ campfire before. It was just another of those things that put a smile on her face.

“So, how’d you like it so far?” she called out. She plopped down on an old log, leftover from someone else’s campfire two centuries before.

Mac half-turned in her direction, then slowly drew towards the fire. “How did I like what? The car ride? I don’t really care for it…” he said, his voice low at the end. He took a seat beside her on the log, then dropped his head onto her shoulder. They sat in silence for a moment while she rubbed his back. “But you said not to be a drag anymore, so I guess I won’t complain.”

“I didn’t say you were being a drag! All I said was that I didn’t want to hear anymore negative comments. You can tell me if something’s bothering you. I want you to have fun, is all.” Alex pet his hair back as the fire crackled beneath the cans of brahmin. “But I meant, how do you like being on vacation so far?”

“Oh, um, it’s fun. I actually do like stopping to see stuff. I was only trying to give you a hard time about it,” he chuckled. “So, North Carolina next, right? What’s to see there?”

“Yeah, if there’s not anything else to stop at along the way,” she answered, leaning forward a bit to turn the cans around. Dogmeat was happily munching away at the last of his dinner and she smiled as he licked his nose. “There’s this Native American town, really just for tourists, and there was this giant Indian statue there. I wanna see if it’s still standing.”

He snorted as he straightened up, then shook his head. “An Indian town for tourists? That sounds… respectful.”

“There’s a museum-”

“Nope, no museum. I don’t want to stop for an eternity. We’ll get a picture with the giant Indian and then we’re out of there,” Mac said, shaking his head again. “You brought that camera, right?”

“Oh, I totally forgot about it! We should have gotten a picture at the last statue!” she cried. Alex’s shoulders drooped and she nodded. “It’s in the trailer, in the bag under the couch. Don’t let me forget about it tonight and I’ll have it ready for our stop tomorrow.”

He murmured his agreement as she passed him a little steak and a Nuka Cola. They ate under the stars together, as they did many nights, but this time they had a gorgeous, uninterrupted view of the darkened mountains springing up all around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello, hello, I'm back! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! it's written in a slightly different style than my original fic (I've been channeling some Stephen King while writing it lol) and the chapters won't be as long as before. this part is mostly all short and sweet, a continuation of Alex's backstory and their relationship.
> 
> Thank you for returning, it means a lot that you guys really enjoy my writing! And as always, anon comments are open. 
> 
> Updates are posted every Saturday. Subscribe to the series, bookmark, or follow my tumblr tag (squintsofficialwriting) to get alerts!


	2. Red River Valley

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Louisiana? Arkansas? Texas?! Alex and Mac have got no clue where they are now, but that's not going to stop them from having a little time to themselves.

A flash of light accompanied a loud shutter click from the little camera perched almost dangerously on the top of a handmade monopod that Alex had thrown together specially for the trip. Their grins stayed plastered to their faces as they blinked away the blindness from the light. Mac shook his head once as he gingerly took the shutter cable out of her hand and took a step towards the camera, meaning to put it away for later. Behind them, the faded chicken sign sat perfectly still, no longer rolling its eyes and bawk-bawking silently up at the sky. Large and small patches of rust shone through the red paint and the letters that once spelled out “Chick-Chuck-N-Shake” were nearly all missing. The restaurant itself was abandoned.

A year before being kidnapped to Boston, she’d stood right there in front of the chicken with Bonnie. They had posed for the camera with a fried drumstick in each of their right hands, playfully leaning in to bite the other’s piece. Truthfully, it felt like it had been just yesterday and a little nail drove its way through her heart, despite having told herself that she was long over her old fiancé. She glanced down at the cracked and weedy pavement covered in bits of glass and tried to hide her trembling lower lip.

The car door snapped shut and still she didn’t look up even as Mac’s footsteps came closer. He started to say something but stopped when he evidently noticed her looking sadly through the front window of the diner. There was a long pause before he stepped up right beside her and cautiously took her hand. “Are you alright?” he whispered kindly.

“It’s nothing,” she said, her upper lip twitching as her voice broke on the last syllable. Then she sucked in a deep breath and shook her head, as if ridding it of Bonnie’s face. It wasn’t fair to Mac that she get wrapped up in her again. Her voice was strong again as she spoke. “It’s nothing, just a weird deja-vu. I haven’t been here since I was about 21 or so.”

There was an odd look on his face, an understanding look, like he knew exactly who she was thinking of without her having to say it. But then his face suddenly twitched down into an irritated frown and he tossed his head to the side, out of her view, as he squeezed his fingers around her smaller hand.

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it…” Alex murmured. That nail drove deeper into her heart as she realized she had hurt him now, too.

“For what?” he asked, raising his eyebrows in a genuinely curious expression as he looked back at her. “I bet it is pretty weird, being back in a place you visited once and seeing it deserted now. Don’t feel bad about it.”

She nodded, hoping that she had read him wrong at first, and swiped away a little wet spot above her lip.

***

Corn, corn, and _more_ corn. The tall, mutated stalks of corn were the only landmarks out here in what she had thought was Louisiana, maybe Arkansas, but no, she turned out to be wrong on both guesses. They’d finally passed a road sign that informed them they were actually in a part of Oklahoma, about five or so hours away from their destination. Alex had marked their route on the map with a highlighter she’d scavenged in a convenience store and off they went, driving past a miraculously bare field with the windows rolled down, radio turned up. An hour later, they passed the exact same sign, then the exact same convenience store.

Some country folk song she’d never heard blared over the radio as she pulled the car over to the side of the road. The fusion core was nearly out and she needed to look at the map again anyway, so she figured now was as good a time as ever. Mac hopped out as soon as the brakes stopped squealing and went to the front of the car. While he worked on replacing the core, she unfolded the map over the steering wheel, realized she took a right instead of a left about two miles west, and made a mental note of it. Then, she leaned halfway out the window with a lit cigarette stuck between her lips to stare at the beige fields of cracked, dry dirt. A few vultures circled overhead, probably waiting for some plains creature to die. Probably a hog.

Giant hogs, which she had unoriginally dubbed radhogs so far, were prevalent out here. Not only that, but they were surprisingly delicious. They’d come across one the night before as they were searching for a camping spot and Mac had nearly screamed when he spotted the gigantic, lumbering beast with four long tusks curling around its mouth. Wild boar had been large to begin with - some hitting seven or eight hundred pounds – but these post-war animals could easily have been three times that size. A brahmin would look like a small puppy compared to a radhog. And like their pre-war ancestors, it wasn’t easy to take out a radhog. Mac and Alex both had scrambled up to the top of the trailer with their sniper rifles, but nothing short of eight shots to the head had taken care of it. At least they had gotten enough meat out of it to last through the next century.

“Hey, doll, you got another core?” Mac asked, leaning against her side of the car like a flirty teenager. She rolled her head up to him and smiled sweetly before holding up the fusion core. “Thanks. We’ll need some more coolant before long, too.”

“Should we check back at that store? I don’t think we’ll get very far before the sun goes down and after that I don’t want to be scavenging through some random building,” Alex said. They were probably going to spend another night in Oklahoma whether they checked the convenience store or not.

“Sure. We could just stay near there for the night, if you’re tired of driving.”

“A little, yeah. My back hurts more, though.” She bit her lip as she craned her head out the window to see him, despite there being no hood to block her view. The sleeves of his t-shirt were rolled up to his shoulders, his hat was tilted back on his head, and a few beads of sweat clung to his brow as he leaned over the front of the car. There was a small click and he yanked his hand back, shaking it. “Be careful!”

“It’s hot. We’re definitely going to need to go back for some coolant, unless you want the core to explode,” he said, readjusting his hat back to its usual position on his head. The dark, nearly perfectly round sunglasses had slid down his nose and he pushed those up, too. “But it’s really up to you, angel.”

Since they had reason to go back, Alex made a wide U-turn in the middle of the street and drove the short way back to the tiny, road-side store. Only one window was left intact and a fire had destroyed the gas pumps long ago, but much of the merchandise was somehow still inside. Earlier, they’d been able to scavenge two cases of Nuka Cola, as many cases of beer as they could fit in the trailer, a couple bottles of whiskey, a carton of cigarettes, some candy, and of course, the fusion core from the generator out back. The Corvega fit neatly behind the store, blocking it and the trailer from view as long as you were looking from the road.

Dogmeat ran ahead, sniffing around the blackened gas pumps as she and Mac poked their heads around the corner. Way out in the country, there were hardly any raiders, but they still used caution and carried a pistol each. They stepped in through a busted window and began searching the aisles up and down for a bottle or two of coolant in what was left of the dying sunlight. After a few more minutes and just before the light faded completely, Mac’s hand shot up in the air holding a bottle of coolant. She could see it was still sealed and there was only some dust on it when he brought it and three more over.

After grabbing one, she wandered back to the front of the car while he stuffed the other bottles in the trunk. Only about half a tank –  three quarters of the bottle – was needed this time. She replaced both caps, making sure they were tight, and then swung the nearly empty bottle of coolant at her side as she walked to the door of the trailer. By then, the sun had gone down and only the moon and stars shone down, glancing gently off the top of the trailer.

“You allergic to dirt now or somethin’?” he asked sarcastically, holding a handkerchief out as she shut the door behind her. When she only stared at him, not understanding, he took a step forward and put the handkerchief closer to her hand. “Are you gonna make me wipe your nose for you or what?”

Alex took the handkerchief, only partially aware of a wet spot above her lip. She swiped it away and looked down at the clear, watery fluid seeping into the cotton as another bead dripped from the right side of her nose. Odd. She didn’t feel stuffy or particularly bothered by the dust clouds. As she wiped up more fluid, she felt a little pop somewhere deep between her eyes and immediately frowned. Whatever this was, it sure didn’t seem like an allergy attack.

“You alright there, snot queen?” Mac chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her waist and drew her closer to him. “It’s okay, I still love you. Even if you _are_ pretty darn gross sometimes.”

“Hey! I can’t help it!” Alex shoved the damp handkerchief into the back pocket of his jeans and hugged him back. “I think it’s the different air pressure or something, since my nose has been leaking for a few days. Seems like it’s getting worse, though.”

Mac ducked his head against her neck and left a few nibbling kisses. “Mmmm, let’s not worry about it right now… It’s been a couple weeks,” he murmured, gently bucking his hips into hers. She could already feel a growing hard-on and she bit her lip shyly as he touched her. One hand slid down her butt, while the other pressed against the small of her back. Two fingertips played along the seam of her spine where it went from metal to bone, a place on her body that he seemed to have some constant, morbid curiosity for. She didn’t mind.

Likewise, her fingers found their way under his shirt and trailed up his back, feeling along his soft, scarred skin. “It _has_ been a couple weeks. But you don’t want dinner first?” she purred in his ear, trying to make it sound low and seductive. He responded by sucking on her neck and she took that as a “no.” They could eat afterwards, maybe in bed, although he hated the crumbs between the sheets.

The huge faux leopard bed, with its gaudy black silk sheets and thin gossamer curtains that hung around it in layers, seemed like a sort of oasis as Mac gently nudged her to the back of the trailer, still kissing and sucking along her neck and jaw. His hands roamed over her ass, up her hips, squeezed her boobs through her thin bra, traced the curves of her sides. A wonderfully painful nip just under her jaw made her cry out, latching onto him as if he was the only thing left in the world. Five weeks, five damn _long_ weeks, had gone by with barely a brush from him and now he seemed to be making it up to her with starving kisses and every last touch he knew she loved.

A tight grasp closed around her hips as her shorts fell to the floor at the foot of the bed and he made sure that her shirt quickly followed. The thin, white tank top underneath clung to her body, showing off the lines of her bra and the curves of her hips. A gentle squeeze, and then he was slipping a hand down the back of her delicate panties. Alex gasped, eyelids fluttering as she melted into his touch. Her lips scrambled along his neck and collarbone to catch up with all the kisses he had given her, but he just snickered and nudged her out of the way.

“This is for you. Enjoy it,” he murmured, voice husky, against her cheek.

The tank top slipped over her head, probably a bit too hastily for her liking. Before she could protest, he hiked her up onto his hip in one smooth motion and gently put her down on the end of the bed. She watched then, doe-eyed, as Mac stripped. There wasn’t anything particularly showy or sexy about the way he did it, but that didn’t seem to matter to her. Alex was enthralled. He shot her a goofy wink as he let his underwear fall to the floor and she was afraid her heart might burst. Surely, he was always this handsome, right?

Her fingertips smoothed over a thin, pink line just below his last rib. A forever reminder of a near-fatal encounter with an intelligent target, one that had placed a very convincing decoy in Mac’s line-of-sight before sneaking up behind him. He winced a bit as she prodded it.

“Oh, sorry… Does it still hurt?” she whispered. She looked up at him with a sad frown, but he gave her a warm, loving smile in return.

“A little, but it’s alright.” He folded slowly into a squat, his hands brushing lightly down her bare thighs, and his eyes traced up her body to her narrow, rounded shoulders. He licked his lips and wrapped his arms around her hips to bring him closer to her. “I love you. You know that, right?” he breathed, leaning in to kiss her thighs.

Alex nodded. She took his face in her hands for a moment, and then rubbed her palms down his back as he leaned in to kiss her belly. His hands slid up her spine to unclasp her bra, sending shivers through every last nerve in her body. A warm, throbbing pleasure between her thighs begged her to rip the panties from her hips and let him have his way with her. Whatever he pleased. But she resisted, instead wanting him to be the one to undress her from head to toe. There was always something about the way he touched her that made her heart flutter and her lungs feel soft inside.

Soon, her patience was rewarded, and she leaned back against the bed as he leaned between her thighs. Mac’s tongue gently lapped against her wet pussy and she arched her back, heels slipping over his shoulders and down his back as she brought herself closer to him. Stars bloomed behind her eyelids as she cried out. Her breath was coming in short gasps as he flicked his tongue deeper, though he always took care to avoid painful spots. A low snicker came from his throat as he kissed the inside of her thigh, evidently taking a break to lick her wetness from his face.

“Pl-please! I can’t wait anymore!” she whimpered. Her cheeks had grown hot and she bit her lip against more begging. Usually, it was _him_ who begged, but she had been more desperate for him than she knew.

A devilish grin spread on his lips as he glanced at her. He slipped her legs from his shoulders and stood, showing off his cock that had grown thick and hard. A bead of precum dripped onto her thigh. “Hm, maybe I should leave you alone for a couple weeks more often,” he teased. “Sure you’re ready?”

It would be excruciating if she wasn’t completely aroused, but Alex couldn’t possibly wait any longer. She felt as if she would burst! Maybe, then, she was ready, and she simply nodded her approval.

A sharp pain exploded through her hips and halfway up her spine. Her thighs tightened around his hips and she gasped at the ceiling. Thankfully, it lasted only a moment before blooms of pleasure softened her nerves. She eased into his rhythm, moving perfectly with him now that she knew exactly what he enjoyed. Her eyelids fluttered shut again as she relished the feeling of him inside of her, his rough hands gripping her thighs, this quiet, private moment between them that no one had to know about. It was their secret, but not one that left her terrified and beaten.

Her heart swelled with love for him again. Love for his gentleness with her, love for his understanding. Love for the way that he picked up her pain, one piece at a time.

Mac squeezed his eyes shut as his body shuddered. His fingers dug into her thighs and a soft cry escaped his throat. He bucked his cock into her one last time before familiar warmth flooded her hips, and she couldn’t help but to moan, too. Her orgasms were always muted - or sometimes non-existent - after Nate, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t satisfied. It wasn’t always about the sex for her. It was more about the closeness, the intimacy.

“Bottom drawer of the nightstand, babe,” Alex said, pointing behind her as he moved toward the bathroom. She’d stashed towels and other goodies in there, just for this moment.

“Ah, you think of everything,” he murmured back with a wink. That goofy wink again. He tossed her a clean towel, smirking now. “Didn’t think you’d be up for a quickie tonight.”

She rolled her eyes as she wiped a bit of cum away from her thighs. “It wasn’t _that_ quick. But it _has_ been over a month.” Then she bit her lip, not sure she should say it, and tacked on in a quiet voice, “I missed you.”

“I’m sorry. I was just-”

“It’s not your fault. I didn’t mean it like I was expecting you to be there for me,” she said quickly. Alex turned back to face him, still perched on the edge of the bed. He was standing in front of the nightstand, blocking much of the light from the dim lamp. “I understand, okay? I’m sorry if that was insensitive to say. I… I had just hoped things would be easier for you.”

Mac stood there for a while, wringing the towel in his hands. He wouldn’t meet her eyes. “I had hoped so, too. But I don’t want to worry about that right now,” he replied, his voice low. A little shake of his head seemed to clear whatever he was thinking about, and then he gave her a warm smile. “Let me take a piss and then you can have the bathroom. I’ll make dinner.”

The yellow and pink bathroom of the trailer was tiny, barely big enough for one of them, let alone both. Once he was finished with it, Alex went in to get cleaned up. She took a shower with what was nearly the last of their water jug, then fixed her wet hair into a loose braid. The smell of cooking dinner wafted in as she stared at herself in the mirror. There was no telling how long she had been standing there, replaying her stupid words in her head. It wasn’t until he tapped his knuckles against the molded plastic sliding door that she jumped and stepped out.

“Get lost in there? It’s huge, I know,” he laughed. He seemed to have hardly a care in the world as he stood before her, a towel wrapped around his waist and a grin on his lips. The plate in his hand was held out to her. A porkchop (courtesy of that pesky, yet delicious radhog), Instamash, and half an ear of corn. It smelled wonderful!

“Can we eat in the bed? It’s comfy.” Alex gave him a tiny, sweet smile.

He rolled his head, looking toward the bed for a moment, then pursed his lips. “Okay, fine. But you have to swear you won’t leave any corn in the sheets,” Mac said, waving a finger at her.

“Okay, okay!”

“And don’t do anything weird,” he added, handing her the plate.

Their towels lay in a pile on the floor as they curled up together in a tangle of bare legs and black silk. They got comfortable with a mound of silk and leopard pillows at their backs, and then he listened intently as she regaled him with the legend of Oklahoma’s killer lake octopus. He snorted once she was finished and she only laughed, knowing the story was absurd but finding it fun to tell all the same. There were more that she knew about, too, but for now she wouldn’t give him anymore nightmares.

“Want one?” Alex asked. She was turned toward him, a half-crushed Fancy Lad’s box in one hand, a snack cake in the other. When he nodded, she unwrapped it. Chocolate fudge with strawberry frosting, the only one in the whole box. Those were his favorite. She held it up to his lips and watched him hesitate for a moment before taking a bite.

“I thought I told you not to do anything weird,” he said, licking the last of it up from his lips.

She raised an eyebrow as she dug one out for herself. “What’s weird?”

“You _know_ what’s weird.”

Mac stared at her while she stared back, truly confused. What was weird about it? That she had hidden the box in the bottom drawer of her nightstand? Okay, sure, maybe she should have been more careful about her hiding spot or whatever, but he couldn’t steal them if she ate them first. But that wasn’t _weird_.

“I don’t know what you think is weird. If I did something, you’re going to have to tell me,” Alex said, shaking her head. She giggled, but only for a few seconds before falling flat. “Besides, I figured you were joking earlier anyway.”

He continued staring for another minute or so. His eyes narrowed into slits and his mouth hung open for a moment before he spoke. “Does it-” He stopped short and shook his head. “Know what, nevermind. I guess if the answer were yes, you wouldn’t think it was weird,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Put those away. I don’t want anymore, and you don’t need anymore.”

“Hey!” she cried, glaring daggers at him as he curled against her side. A teasing smirk was on his face and he kissed the back of her hand apologetically. “That’s not very nice.”

But the snack cakes went away like he asked, because although she would have liked another, she was far more interested in him holding her. He chuckled as she turned back to him, one hand feeling over her hip. The touch was gentle, light. A thrill ran up her spine and she fought against a shiver. Then, he carefully rested his head against her breast, sighing again as he relaxed into her. His hand rested flat against her hip, a warm reassurance that he still loved her, no matter how _weird_ she may be.

Soon, Alex felt her eyelids growing heavy. A murmured, husky “I love you” was the last thing she heard before they both drifted to sleep in a warm, tangled heap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you liked the music from new vegas or would like to hear the type of music that would most likely play in the post-war south, i made a spotify playlist. some songs that will be featured in upcoming chapters are on this list! (https://open.spotify.com/user/squiiints/playlist/6QLeYxw56m0oHTads2F8cM)
> 
> Updates are every Saturday. Subscribe, bookmark, or follow my tumblr tag #squintsofficialwriting to know when I post!


	3. Tumbling Tumbleweeds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finally home, Alex and Mac begin to meet up with all types of people, but the realization of memories long forgotten are suddenly overwhelming.

“Well, why’d’je w’nna come back t’ this shithole, heh?”

The man sitting across from them, tan-skinned and weathered, and looking like he had just popped right off the front cover of a Western novel, raised an eyebrow and his beer to his lips simultaneously. He was a real cowboy, alright. The genuine article. The heavy drawl of his Southern accent, not an act in the slightest, drove the point home. This man was a born-and-bred Texas rancher if there ever was one.

“Oh, I grew up here. Went up to Boston for a few years, but I’ve been missing home,” Alex answered politely. Even so, Mr. Daniels sneered as if she had said the most offensive thing he’d ever heard.

“Ah, tha’ _would_ make s’me sense, a’righ’,” Mr. Daniels said, wagging a finger in her direction. He coughed dryly then and tipped his dusty cowboy hat back. “Well then, darlin’, I c’n tell ye an’ yer mister here tha’ thar’s a settlemen’ out t’ the east, Roy-doza. Not s’much a settlemen’, really. More like a, uh… oh, a caw-myoon, I reck’n ye’d say. Lots of them ghoul fellars and… _others_ , y’know what I mean.” He winked good-naturedly, jerking his elbow towards her. Alex knew what he meant and was honestly a bit shocked at his disrespect, but kept her feelings to herself all the same. There was no changing the hard set ways of an old southerner. “Lil ways on south o’ here’s a place call’t Pyote Villa, good fer a bo’tle o’ shine. An’ righ’ damn ‘ere, where we jus’ so happ’n t’ be sittin’, is Clear F’rk.”

Beside Alex, Mac was struggling to comprehend just what in the hell Mr. Daniels was trying to say through his accent, while she herself understood flawlessly. In fact, hearing the thick accent made her own grow more pronounced, however subconsciously. She leaned over the sticky wooden table toward Mr. Daniels, nodding. “So tell me, how’re the ol’ pre-war suburbs lookin’? I only ask ‘cause, well, fam’ly used t’ live there ‘while back. I was hopin’ I could find some things a’theirs,” she said, hopefully hiding the half-lies in her shrugs.

A waitress, dressed not much unlike an old-fashioned saloon girl, came over to replace their empty beers. Thankfully, it was just the right moment to distract Mr. Daniels from her awkwardness. He and Mac quietly thanked the waitress before she disappeared without a word into the smoky, busy front room of the saloon, an oddity that Mac had thought to exist only in gritty Westerns. Actually, it was one of several new things that had stopped him on their drive through Texas. Another of which was tumbleweeds, for the exact same reason as the saloon. Alex had laughed and laughed as he stared down a whole group of them rolling across the blacktop like loose plastic shopping bags.

With a fresh drink in hand, Mr. Daniels sat back on his stool and thought for a moment. She was about to repeat her question, afraid he had either not heard or wouldn’t answer without more prompting, when he nodded slowly. “Reck’n tha’ would d’pend which ‘burb ye talkin’ ‘bout, girl. Y’got the north ‘burb, which ne’r sur-vive the war. Awl’s lef’s a crater ‘bout the size a’downtown. If I ain’t mistaken, only ‘burbs really left standin’ are t’ the south and sou’east. Only, woul’n’t be ver’ po-lite a’me to send ya’ll sear-chin’ there withou’ mentionin’ awl them uhglies. Fuckers be lookin’ like moss fr’m’a dis’ance, ‘less ye be knowin’ better.”

“Uglies? Like…?” Mac asked, trailing off. He was looking over his beer at Mr. Daniels with a look that said he thought he knew but wasn’t quite sure.

“Big ol’ greenies, mister. Like t’ be hun’ret feet tawl. Surely y’all see ‘em up northways?” Mr. Daniels answered, surprised.

Both of them nodded vigorously, but it was Alex that spoke up and said, “Oh yeah, we know of ‘em. ‘Cept we call ‘em super mutants.”

Mr. Daniels’s only response was another understanding nod and to stick a cigarette between his lips. He had no comment on the difference in colloquialism whatsoever. That was fine by her, as long as he wasn’t hiding anything else that they would need to know. It didn’t seem to be the case and she didn’t press for more information. After he lit his cigarette, she thanked him and rose from her stool. Mr. Daniels offered them both a friendly goodbye and safe travels, smiling kindly behind his cigarette.

Back in the front room, she and Mac slipped between cramped tables to the bar, where their waitress was observing the whole place with a tired sneer. Alex meant to pay their tab before they left and no more; it was getting late, but the whole place stunk of centuries-old cigar smoke and rotting taxidermies. The trailer would be alright to sleep in, like it had been every night up to that point. Besides, some of the dancers seemed to be getting a little _too_ friendly with Mac, and the men too friendly with _her._

While the waitress counted out the caps Alex had paid her, Mac frowned and tilted his head a bit. “What did he mean about… Ruidosa? He said ghouls, but then he said ‘others’?” he asked Alex softly. There was real innocence in the way that he asked, and she paused for a moment, trying to figure out how best to put it.

“Messicans, tha’s who he means,” the waitress answered suddenly, nearly shouting. She had stopped counting and just stared at him, incredulous. There was no shame in the way she snorted and rolled her eyes. “What? You ain’t from ‘round here, mister?”

Mac could only look on, slack-jawed, as she went back to closing their tab. Beside him, Alex felt a twinge of burning embarrassment, as if they had been her own words. She kicked herself for not warning him beforehand.

***

The hulking, white structure, now streaked with dirt from two centuries of rain, stood nearly unchanged against the pink-y orange sky from the last time she had seen it. Rough chunks of marble were taken out here and there, the glass door was broken and boarded up. Green chips of ancient glass littered the top steps. The courthouse sign over the entrance was long gone. Weeds and grass covered the sidewalk, a few long creepers reaching up to the second or third step in some places. But everything else was the same, and she couldn’t help the tears that welled up in her eyes as she tried to reconcile this new reality with her old one.

Maybe they shouldn’t have stopped. It was just that the courthouse was on the way to her old neighborhood, so long as they took the winding route around downtown. After all, they needed to watch out for super mutants. It had felt natural to stop there at first. The right thing to do. Before she stepped out of the car and stood in front of the building, it had seemed that things would fall into place as they had been before. Like things had been when she was younger, before Nate.

But not before Bonnie.

Behind her, Mac said something quietly to Dogmeat and moved toward her, crunching loose gravel and glass beneath his boots. The sound was almost deafening as it bounced off the front wall of the courthouse and echoed in her ears. In her mind, she begged him – _begged_ him - not to get any closer, but he didn’t bid her wish. His footsteps came to a halt beside her. Alex whimpered once before she began to sob.

There was a moment of stunned silence before Mac hesitantly reached out and brushed his fingers against her forearm. “Hey, is… everything alright?” he asked, clearly unsure of what to say or do.

Oh god, she couldn’t tell him. If she did… If she did, then she didn’t know what he would do. Maybe he would be angry, maybe it would hurt him. She had _promised_ him that she loved him now, and he had promised back. Bonnie and Lucy had been put away in special places in their respective minds, not forgotten but no longer at the beginning and end of their days. And if she told him now that she couldn’t keep these thoughts, these memories, away on this trip, then perhaps he would think she didn’t really love him after all. She didn’t know if she could stand to lose him over a woman that was long dead.

Or, maybe he would understand. Maybe he would nod reassuringly, listen to the memories that were breathing down her neck, and hold her in his arms as she wept on the steps of the courthouse.

“Alex? Talk to me. What’s wrong?” he asked again, growing urgent this time. His fingers were wrapping around her forearm now, which would have felt threatening if he wasn’t Mac.

She sat heavily on the first step, only half-aware that she was moving at all. “We were he-here. A few days before the Fourth of July. I pr-proposed to her, rih-hight here,” she murmured. By then, he was sitting beside her, still hardly touching her. “I’m sorry, I… I guh-guess I sort of forgot about it. Until we g-got here.”

That was all she could manage to explain, at least while she was still crying and watching the memory play in her mind. There were several more beats of silence while he must have thought about what she’d said, understood it. She was sure that he would be hurt now, and she prepared herself to start sobbing all over again. She couldn’t even bring herself to look at him when she heard him sigh.

“She never tried to find out what happened to you,” Mac said. It was a statement, not a question, and Alex was confused for a moment. “Even after you proposed to her, she never tried to find you after Nate. Why not?”

Alex bit her bottom lip hard. “Bonnie… wasn’t a very trusting person, and she always thought the absolute worst. _Always_. When she realized I’d lied to her and went to meet Nate, she… thought I was cheating on her. She sent me a letter, just one, and told me never to come back. That was after my family found out that I was marrying Nate,” she said, barely above a whisper. Fresh tears fell over her cheeks, smearing the pretty mascara she’d found the day before.

“But your family knew he kidnapped you, right?” He sounded skeptical now, though she guessed that was better than what she had expected.

“Well… not really. My family was very religious; they couldn’t ever know I was with Bonnie. But they knew I’d been with _someone_ , and when Nate sent them a picture of us together, they assumed it was him. I couldn’t really tell them that he’d kidnapped me without telling them about Bonnie, I guess,” she answered, realizing how stupid it all sounded now. It had been her escape the whole time, but she was too afraid that the truth would come out. She shook her head and dropped her gaze to the ground. “Nate threatened to tell them the truth, and then they were all so excited by the time he announced our wedding that… I just couldn’t say anything. It wasn’t until he took me away that I tried to say something, but no one believed me.”

Her eyes were still fixed to the ground while he seemed to hesitate again. One hand, at first strong and reassuring, awkwardly slipped and fell away from her waist. There was a low noise in his throat, but no words. Even without looking at him, she knew that he had turned his face away from her. Hurt… He was hurt.

Mac still thought of Lucy often, Alex knew this. He couldn’t seem to give her up, despite it having been several years since her death, and so it stood to reason that he would understand suddenly being overwhelmed by old, happy memories. But he didn’t, not really, because he was selfish sometimes. Alex knew this also.

So now, instead of laugh-crying in his arms and making newer, happier memories, she was sobbing weakly beside him. Hurting him.

“I’m s-s-suh-so sor-sorry,” she breathed, starting to cry all over again. Mac sighed but still didn’t have anything to say. The nail she’d felt in her heart days before came back, stronger this time. “I really di-did forget about it. If I’d kn-knoh-own, I wouldn’t have stopped us h-here.”

“Guess I can’t really blame you,” he replied. He shrugged, then continued almost too low for her to hear, “If I stopped at the spot where I proposed to Lucy, I’d probably be pretty upset, too.”

“I’m suh-sorry, I-I’m sor-!”

Mac shook his head and quickly cut her off, “Stop it. I _know_ you’re sorry, but you don’t need to keep saying it.”

“I j-juh-juh-ust didn’t me-mean to h-hurt you. I proh-h-h-homised you.”

“You promised me you would love me, and you do. Nothing you can do about hurt feelings. It happens,” he muttered, sounding almost heart-broken. Even so, he wrapped both arms around her middle and pulled her in close, leaving a gentle kiss on the back of her neck. “’Sides, I probably hurt your feelings a million times more often than you hurt mine.”

That made her smile a tiny little smile and she shook her head. They got along beautifully, and hurt feelings didn’t come between them very often. When they did, it always fleeting. Now was obviously no exception as he tickled the back of her neck with his lips and squeezed her tight, making her squeal up at the darkening skyline. Alex giggled and wiped her tears away, while he slid a hand beneath the front of her shirt.

“Aw jeez, babe… I dunno how to tell you this, but, uuuh…” Mac had stopped kissing her and now sounded unsure, his voice wavering slightly. He gave a low, anxious groan as he leaned his face over her shoulder.

“What? What?!” she cried, suddenly terrified. Did she laugh at the wrong thing? Was there a bug crawling on her leg?

He made another uneasy noise in the back of his throat and she could see now that he was frowning down at his hands. “Mmmm, well… Y’see, babe, you’re… uuuh… Well, you’ve gotten pretty fat,” he murmured, as if it was news. When he got a look at her face, he pursed his lips tight against a huge grin, desperate to hold back his laughter.

Wow.

“Do you ever think about what you say, before it falls out of your mouth?” Alex asked him. She tried to make her face hard and not laugh, but it was difficult for her, too.

“If you mean ‘Do I think about the _consequences_ of what I say,’ then no. I don’t.” He cocked an eyebrow and something about it nearly made her scream with laughter. But she held it back while he chuckled and gave her belly a few good pats. “So, you’re saying you didn’t notice then? Cause this-” He glanced down and hissed through his teeth. “-this is _bad_. Like, _deal-breaker_ bad.”

“Now you’re just asking to get slapped.”

“For _what?!”_

“For being a little shithead,” Alex purred, rolling over so that she was on top of him.

Mac’s face cracked into a mischievous grin as he laid across the steps, staring up at her. His hands reached up towards her hips and slipped beneath her thin shirt again. “Is getting ‘slapped’ code for something else? I sure hope so.”

“Only if you kiss me and tell me I’m pretty.”

“Oh, I’ll do _whatever_ you want, angel…”

***

The sound of fabric gently shifting made her eyes pop open, staring up at the gray ceiling of the trailer. Mac had brushed the bedspread aside under his hand. With his head still resting on her bare stomach, he’d rolled his face up towards hers and was watching her with a fascinated sense of concern.

“Your nose is leaking again,” he mumbled, lazily extending a hand. Alex swiped the wetness away with an index finger, then dropped her hand beside his hip. He gave her a sarcastic, disgusted sneer. “Ew. Do you have allergies now or something?”

She shook her head slowly, tiredly. “Nah, dunno what that is. Sometimes I feel a little pop between my eyes, but otherwise it doesn’t bother me.”

“Oh, I think that means you’re dead.” He mimed firing a gun between his eyes and they both chuckled softly.

At the foot of the bed, Dogmeat stretched and gave a little whine. Neither of them had paid the poor thing any attention over the last hour or so on account of their more pressing activities, and now he was too sleepy to beg anymore. Alex supposed that was a good thing, so long as he didn’t try to take up more than the foot of the bed.

“Should have brought Millie with us. She’d know what it is,” Mac said. Millie was the first-aid protectron that she’d fixed up to help her with all sorts of things. Now that she’d installed a few advanced subroutines, Millie was a regular doctor. “We can look for a doctor tomorrow, when we stop at Ruidosa. Maybe they can tell us why you’re so freakin’ gross.”

Alex shrugged. “I doubt they’ll know what it is. They’d probably have more answers on why you’re such a jackass.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry if you're as lost as mac at deciphering what the hell they're saying lol. it will get better, i promise.
> 
> Updates are every Saturday. Subscribe to the series, bookmark, or follow my tumblr tag #squintsofficialwriting to know when I post!


	4. Home on the Range

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Faced with the reality that her old neighborhood is no longer the familiar picture in her head, Alex gives up the idea of revisiting her past.

Glass, trash, and weeds blanketed the narrow, suburban street that lay before her, twisting through dilapidated houses and trees until the blacktop disappeared into the dark. The welcome sign had faded from a bright blue and white with gold lettering to an indistinguishable, patchy gray. A strong breeze brought sounds of shingles flapping, pre-fab sheets of metal banging against one another, the hollow sound of air rushing through the shell of an old frame house. Probably _her_ old house, but she couldn’t look to see. Alex stood there, both hands over her face as she listened, waiting. Waiting for a sound that told her things were right again.

That sound never came and eventually, she gave up. Her fingers threaded up through her hair, spreading the long, loose curls.

“If you don’t want to…” His voice floated over the wind to her ears and she shook her head. “Or, I can leave. If that would make it easier.”

There weren’t any tears this time, but that sorrowful, piercing pain still tore at her throat. It made her _want_ to cry, it was so damn painful. So difficult, to see that the place where she grew up was nothing more than a collection of useless husks now. And her family…

Oh, they were gone. She’d known they were gone the minute she saw that atomic bomb drop, when it sent out that tidal wave of yellow-red heat. But were they really gone, completely gone?

“What if they’re still here?” Alex heard herself say. The wind had stopped suddenly and her words, nearly breathless, sounded like thunder against the silence. “A pair of skeletons lying in bed, or ghouls, or… o-o-or…”

“Ferals,” Mac finished for her, somehow making the possibility far more real than if she had said it herself.

She shook her head, sending curls tumbling over her breasts. “I don’t think it would be a good idea to go in. I don’t, uh… I don’t want a repeat of last night. It probably doesn’t matter what happened to them. I’ll be upset no matter what,” she said. It was clear in the way her voice wobbled that she was fighting back tears now. “Sorry for dragging you out here. I guess I just didn’t think about what could happen.”

“You don’t need to keep apologizing to me all the time. I know you’re sorry, but it’s also not your fault.” Mac stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the neighborhood, and wrapped his arms around her. “I know how hard it is, when you think you can go back to a place like this and it turns out to be… wrong. Not like you imagined it would be, I guess,” he whispered, holding her tightly against him. She wondered if maybe she wasn’t supposed to hear that last, near-silent bit, but he was close enough to her ear that she could make out his sad words pretty clearly.

A loud, barking yip startled her and she looked around to see Dogmeat chasing a large, mutated armadillo, which was something like a cross between a rat and a cracked and dirty baseball. It skittered away from them, clicking its nails against the concrete in rapid little taps. Leaves rustled, then an overgrown bush, and it was gone. Dogmeat barked again, disappointed that he’d lost his new toy already. Mac chuckled at the sight but didn’t stop hugging her.

“Hey, I am really sorry about… this. And I wish I knew what to say, like you always do. I always sound like an as- er, a jerk, so, just pretend like I said something comforting, alright?” he said, giving another light chuckle. “Let me drive you up to Ruidosa and I’ll buy you a box of candy. Sound good?”

They were walking towards the car now, his arm around her shoulder and her arm hooked around his waist. Dogmeat seemed confused at whatever reason they were leaving already, but she wasn’t crying, so he looked on happily enough. She giggled as Mac opened the driver’s side door and tried to snatch the keys from her hand.

“You can’t drive!” she cried, holding the keys against her chest. A grin spread on her lips, despite the disappointment and sadness that still left her heart hollow. He reached for the keys again and she jumped away.

“Oh, come on! It doesn’t look hard! All you gotta do is turn the wheel some and look out for holes,” he said, tilting his head in exasperation.

“Easier said than done. I’ll teach you how to drive, but not now.” With that, she slipped behind the steering wheel and started the car, leaving him to trudge around the front and get in on the passenger side. He didn’t make a big deal out of it, but he did try to make her laugh all the way to Ruidosa.

***

It was a settlement, alright, but not one she thought she would ever see in her life. It was bright, colorful, loud, with dozens, maybe hundreds of people and ghouls alike milling about on the packed dirt alleyways. A rock fence surrounded the town, which was made up of wood and adobe buildings, newly built since the war. The Texas flag, with the name Ruidosa painted on its front, fluttered in the dusty breeze. Dry weeds poked up through the gravel and a patch of round, flowering hedgehog cactus forced them to beat a wide path to the entrance. Mac eyed it suspiciously, having only heard her stories of their awfully sharp spines.

The Corvega seemed at odds with the brahmin hitch near the entrance, but the animals paid it no mind. An old woman, however, was clearly fascinated. Sitting in a rocking chair in front of what must surely have been a general store, her eyes grew wide and she reached out a shaking, wrinkled hand to Alex.

“A _car!_ ” the woman marveled, looking between them. She took Alex’s hand and patted it gently, though she still didn’t take her dark eyes off the Corvega. “Oh, dear, I ain’t seen a car since… Well, not since my daddy’s. Used t’ be lots of ‘em ‘round here, but my daddy held on t’ his until it just about fell t’ pieces. A Corvega, like yours, but older, I think. Black, too.” Then she seemed to remember something and shook her head. “Oh, oh, forgive me, dear! I didn’t mean to stop ya’ll, it’s just that I don’t too often get a look at somethin’ so in’erestin’!”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m glad it brightened your day,” Alex said politely, smiling down at her. The old woman smiled in return and gave her hand back. “We were actually looking for a place to pick up supplies, and maybe a doctor if there’s one around. Could you help us out?”

The woman nodded and slowly waved her hand behind her. “Supplies are here. M’ grandchildren run it, Delfina and Tomás. Only doc is a traveler, an’ he ain’t been back since… oh, Tuesd’y, I suppose. Won’t be back ‘til next week.”

Well, that was disappointing, but they thanked the woman anyway before stepping inside the cool darkness of the store. It was a frame building with small, bottle glass windows on each wall, a long, wooden counter, and a rusty, cast-iron chandelier hanging from the ceiling. Barrels full of goods – sugar, flour, peppers – were pushed up against the walls. There was a radio playing in the back; George Jones’s voice filled the room, singing about the girl that left him heartbroken. A small group of ghouls stood to one side of the counter, bartering with a young man over something wrapped in a scrap of canvas.

Another girl, who was surely Delfina and no older than 16 at the most, perked up the minute they walked in. She waved the two of them toward the counter, a smile growing on her face. Alex wondered if she was actually happy to see new customers or if the girl was just being polite.

“¡Hola, bienvenido! No he visto a ustedes dos por aquí antes. ¿Cómo puedo ayudarle?”

Mac hesitated and shook his head. “Uh, sorry, we don’t spea-”

“Hola. Estamos visitando hoy. Yo solía, uh, vivir aquí. Hoy necesitar, um, suministros,” Alex answered her, speaking over Mac. Her Spanish wasn’t as well-spoken or as rapid, but it was the best she could do. Delfina seemed pleased, nodding as Alex leaned on the counter. “Podríamos, uh, necesitar algunas claras agua y pan, por favor.”

“It’s okay, señorita. I’ll take your order in English,” Delfina said, not unkindly. She held a pad of paper and a pencil in her hands.

“Is it that bad?” Alex mumbled, feeling a blush on her cheeks. Delfina smiled, shaking her head, and said that it was good. Better than most traveler’s, when they knew any Spanish at all. “Well, I think some purified water, a loaf or two of bread, and some cooking oil should do it. Oh, and how much are the peppers?”

“Diez monedas por bolsa o quince caps,” she answered. Fifteen caps for a bag, she’d said, passing a small paper sack across the counter. When Alex turned away, Delfina said to Mac, “I’ll be right back with your order. Altogether, it’ll be a hundred and… thirty caps.”

The shiny, green and red peppers filled two of the barrels near the open doorway. They were so large, only about five could be crammed into the bag before she had to twist the top up and return to the counter. Mac was leaning casually against it, listening to the ghouls’ conversation with much curiosity. It was all in Spanish, and she suddenly realized that he’d never known she could speak anything other than English. In fact, she was a little surprised she could still speak it after going so long without needing to.

“Didn’t you know it’s rude to eavesdrop?” she teased, low enough that only he could hear. She let a hand brush across his lower back as she moved to stand in front of him.

“Is it still considered eavesdropping if I have no idea what they’re saying, hm?” he countered. She supposed it wasn’t, and they both laughed quietly at that. Then, he went back to watching their complicated trade play out.

Delfina came out from the back of the store, her arms loaded down with supplies. The cans of water rolled around the counter when she set everything down. Mac reached out to help her right them again, and then Delfina brought out a bigger paper sack. Everything disappeared inside it, peppers on top, before she began to count the caps he’d already laid on the counter. When everything seemed good, she nodded and pushed the bag towards them with a smile.

“Gracias. Anything else I can help you two with?”

Alex nodded and gestured toward the doorway. “Yeah, if you don’t mind. We talked to your grandma out front about a doctor, but she said he wouldn’t be back for a while. Do you know of any other places we could find a doc?”

Delfina’s smile faltered and she looked in her brother’s direction. Tomás seemed to sense her searching gaze and turned toward them, interrupting the ghouls’ trade. They didn’t seem to mind all that much, though.

“Sí? You asked about a doctor?” he asked, to which she and Alex both nodded. “Only the traveling doctor comes around here. You’ll have to go to the coast, miss, where there are larger settlements. I don’t have exact directions. Sorry.”

The coast was a far drive just to get to a doctor, but she supposed it might be fun. There were other cities to make stops at. Then, they could drive along the coast to get back to the Commonwealth. Easy. Alex nodded again and thanked them both, while Mac took the bag into the crook of his arm. They would leave it in the trailer before wandering deeper into the settlement in search of… well, anything that looked interesting. And there were _mountains_ of interesting looking things beyond the entrance.

***

“Bombs came down, yessiree, but it was almost like they… missed, y’know? What musta been the biggest one smacked right down in the northern suburbs, blew the whole fuckin’ place t’ sticks,” the ghoul, who went by the name of Coyote (pronounced ‘Ki-yot’), said. In one hand, he rolled a glass of whiskey. “Remember that, I do. Was standin’, oh, just about the edge of northern downtown. There was a vault somewheres around. I never did find the damn place. So I watched, watched that big thing fall out of the sky. Looked like it was headed straight fer me. Then I guess the wind picked up, good an’ strong, y’know, an’ blew that fuck’r all the ways up north.”

Tucked into a gritty, sunbathed corner of some quiet cantina, Alex and Mac listened intently. A box of chocolates, made fresh in one of the many bazaar stalls, passed between the two. She had offered to share with Coyote, who politely declined. The ghoul, who had been alive and well and 44 years old the day the bombs fell, was happy enough to tell them the story of what had happened to her hometown. Most ghouls tried to forget, and others didn’t care to listen. After much persistence on her part, he had relented and accepted a bottle of whiskey in exchange.

In a decidedly colorful town, black ranch gear seemed heavily out of place. And that was before one factored in the sweltering, new-desert heat of East Texas. Yet, Coyote seemed perfectly fine with just the shade of his dark, wide brimmed hat on his face. Comfortable, even. He plucked at the torn edge, minutely adjusting the hat, as the clouds rolled over the adobe building and bright sunlight glared in through the roof windows. A stream of light found his blind eye, black and filled with hazy cataracts. Then, he took a sip of whiskey, glancing across the room.

Beside the bar, near the front of the cantina, sat a gigantic cabinet radio. The thing looked more like a windowless jukebox than a radio, and yet it played the local station anyway. A woman by the name of Dolores ran it during the daytime, then Mr. Hollis in the evening. Sometimes, they would play a radio show, either newly recorded or a pre-war favorite. They were almost exclusively about cowboys, or else miners or gunslingers. The Silver Shroud had no place here.

_“Cares of the past are behind - Nowhere to go, but I'll find - Just where the trail will wind - Drifting along with the tumblin' tumbleweeds”_

Another man, dusty and wrinkled, shuffled inside and took a heavy seat at the bar. He called for a beer. The bartender, a broad-shouldered hulk of a man, drew a bottle from beneath the bar and passed it along. The bolo tie around his neck seemed ready to snap as he surveyed his cantina. Alex quickly looked away before their eyes could meet.

“Next thing I know,” Coyote went on, “there’s a mushr’m cloud, huge thing, an’ then a heat wave. Near about knocked me flat on my ass. We all started t’ run, run for cover. Some ran in circles.” He stopped to chuckle dryly, took another sip of whiskey, and nodded. “A lot of the buildin’s fell flat, squashed by the heat an’ wind, I guess. Ever’thing still burned when I hid somewheres, but I was tired, so I tooka nap. Woke up t’ a whole buncha bodies all round me. Guess the rads did ‘em in, but didn’t think about that ‘til later on. Felt like I was on fire. Tried t’ swat it away, but my skin fell off with it…

“Tooka couple more weeks fer me t’ finish changin’. Few people who didn’t die, or change like me, ran us ghoulies off. So’s a big group of us went north fer a while. Lived in the crater. Jackie was the first t’ change into a animal. Vicious. But she left us other ghoulies ‘lone, so we kept her ‘til she went an’ got herself shot up. Me an’ some others left after that, left t’ come out here. But it was Polly that started up Ruidosa. We just helped out,” he said, nodding again.

Alex struggled to swallow the burning chocolate in her mouth. “Caramelos de ruleta,” the woman had said, exchanging their caps for the box. “Roulette candy.” Well, that was no lie, because she’d gotten one filled to the brim with hot sauce. She grabbed for Mac’s knee, eyes streaming, and tried desperately to keep from breathing fire. He clapped her on the back and slid his nearly empty bottle of Sunset Sarsaparilla towards her.

“Ah, shit… Hot. Sorry,” she said, her voice strained. “Sorry about… what happened to you, too. Do you know whatever happened to the vault?”

“Yup, caved in one day. No good t’ put it in this clay ground,” Coyote answered. “Couple people hid in pers’nal shelters, others in the hospital. The basement held up a’right, considerin’, but some people still turned inta ghoulies.”

They sipped at their whiskeys for a few minutes, avoiding the chocolate now. But before long, Alex had the feeling that someone was watching. Mac must have felt it, too. He straightened up a little, tapped one finger to her thigh. Tilting her head, she could see the bartender out of the corner of her eye. He was staring, an empty look of displeasure on his face. Coyote didn’t look over, but he finished off his drink and leaned over the table.

“I’m afraid ya’ll will find that lots a’places aren’t too friendly when it comes t’ tourists. Even less so when it comes t’ women in the bars. Not prop’r, y’know? I don’t much mind it, but _he_ does,” Coyote said, in a low, serious tone. “If there ain’t any more ye need, I should warn ya’ll out of here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am honestly having so much fun writing and researching for this fic, and i really hope y'all are having as much fun reading! comments are still open, including anonymous, so please don't be shy! let me know if you love/hate the newer writing style, what you think about alex and mac, anything really! i love hearing what you guys think.
> 
> Updates are every Saturday. Subscribe, bookmark, or follow my tumblr tag #squintsofficialbusiness to know right when I post!


	5. Don't Come Home A-Drinkin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, they are on vacation, so Alex decides to stop for fun stuff well before they ever get to the coast. Mac, on the other hand, is still unsure of the activities she ends up choosing.

The heavy clicks of boot heels against dark hardwood echoed through the tiny shop, mingling sweetly with the notes of Crosby’s ‘Home on the Range.’ A few customers whistled along to the tune as they browsed. Shelves and shelves of cowboy boots in every color and style covered the walls nearly from floor to ceiling. Behind the front counter, which was manned by a rough young woman named Annette, hung a gun rack loaded with shotguns and revolvers. Piles of gun mods, both pre-war military and newer, hand-tooled pieces, sat behind the glass front of the counter like candy at a convenience store. Spaces on the walls and ceiling not taken up by merchandise were instead filled with dozens of posters and signs, both steel and neon.

Alex stared up at a multi-colored neon cowboy, who fired his revolver at nothing every few seconds. A few boots down was a green radadillo with a crazy, red eye and a sign featuring a bat drinking beer. Beside her, Mac was struggling to try on a pair of black and tan boots she had picked out for him. He grumbled under his breath as he stood and clicked across the floor towards her, a frown pulling at his face to contrast her wide grin.

“Oh, don’t look like that, ya goof! Those look good on you. Much better than the green ones,” she said, still smiling as she clapped him on the shoulder. “If they feel weird, it’s only because they’re new. You need to break them in first and then they’ll feel better.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding if you expect me to wear these,” he shot back in a low voice. He glanced down at them, then crossed his arms over his chest as he glared at her.

“Yes, you have to wear them. It’s Texas! You can’t be walking all over in just any old boots, you gotta wear _these_ boots!” She giggled as her hand slid down his arm and took his own, feeling his cracked, rough skin with her almost magically soft fingertips. The touch seemed to make him relent a bit. Alex leaned in for a quick kiss as a thank you, which was all he needed to finally give in.

“If I wear them, will you buy me one of those neat revolvers?” Mac waggled an eyebrow and half-turned so she could see the gun rack again, and most importantly, the section filled with beautifully ornate pistols in silver and gold. “Whatcha think, cowgirl? We got ourselves a deal?”

Well, they _had_ brought plenty of caps, probably far more than they needed, so… “Sure, go pick one out. If you want those boots, gimme the tag and you don’t have to take them off.”

About half an hour later, the two of them sauntered back into the streets of what used to be known as San Antonio – now known only as Alamo to most, Cantera de cal to a few others – and Mac whistled for Dogmeat to follow. Between them, they had a large sack of candy, a slightly larger sack of ammo, and a pair of boots each. Alex wore a brown cowboy hat, decorated in the front with feathers and a leather tie. Mac took a last look at the engraved silver revolver, running his thumb over the stag horn grip, before he reluctantly holstered it. Dogmeat was happy enough to take a strip of beef jerky in exchange for having to wait outside.

They stopped about halfway down the street in front of what was left of the Alamo. A bomb had evidently dropped further down the road on what used to be the Menger Hotel and now there was only a pile of concrete left. The Alamo itself was also mostly a collection of stone and bricks and concrete, though a lot of the plaques were still standing enough to share what knowledge they had. A military post, which had been placed shortly after the war in order to contain the chaos, lay scattered around the right side of the Alamo. According to locals, one was more likely to find booby traps in there than anything worth scavenging. Alex began rattling off the history that she knew, much to Mac’s annoyance.

When she was done, she opened up the bag of candy and plucked a small piece out. It was a bright blue gummi in the shape of a cowboy hat. Instead of eating it, she licked the bottom and stuck it to the center of Mac’s forehead, fighting back giggles as he slowly turned to face her. The candy was firmly attached to his forehead as he ground his teeth and glared daggers at her. A hysterical burst of laughter made her clap both hands over her mouth and she jumped just out of reach as he swiped for her.

“Huh-holy shit! I wih-wish I had a-a mirror!” she screamed, then laughed again. “Wait, wait! H-hold still, I have the camera in the bag!”

Mac wrinkled his nose as she started digging through her backpack. He pursed his lips when she couldn’t find it right away, though he did let out a little chuckle. “Okay, just hurry before someone sees. I won’t forgive you if someone sees me looking like a fuck- freakin’ idiot.”

“You don’t look like an idiot, you look adorable,” Alex said as she held the camera up. He posed with an annoyed look on his face and once the shutter clicked, he pulled the candy from his face and popped it into his mouth. She held the bag out so he could take another. “They’re called Mexican Hats. They’re fun.”

He took a red one, licked the bottom, and poked it onto her forehead. “Yeah, guess they are pretty fun if you like dirt and someone else’s spit on your food,” he murmured, snorting as she ate the little hat.

“You say ‘someone else’s spit’ like you _don’t_ try to stick your tongue in my mouth every night.”

“Well-!” His face turned down into an annoyed frown and he rolled his eyes. “Ugh, fine. I’ll eat your spit candy.”

Alex smirked as she stuck another hat to his face. “Good. You better eat my spit candy, you ungrateful jerk,” she teased. Then she waved a hand toward the assortment of shops they had come from. “Now, it’s time to find a bar and get drunk!”

***

The towering green dino swirled in and out of focus as she drew closer, its long neck seeming to sway. Or maybe that was her. She didn’t pay it much attention as she ran pell-mell across the gravel lot, arms swinging in huge circles, playful screams bouncing off their silver trailer and the walls of what had once been a truck stop. Not far behind, Mac chased her in a haphazard trail. His drunk laughter was broken up by panting, shouts, and a few groans. No one was around to see them goofing off, but even if there was, neither would have given a shit. They were having too much fun.

The wild chase had started about a half mile’s walk from the bar. Alex had danced away from his arm around her waist, teased him for a moment, and then jumped away when he reached for her again. He had nearly tripped and fallen forward, while she almost fell backwards. They had laughed it off, but she got away from him again and it slowly became a game on their way back to the trailer. By the time the huge gas station dinosaur had come into view, they were in an all-out pursuit.

“Aw, c’mon! Can’t let a girl twice your size outrun ya!” she slurred, barely able to bring herself up to the trailer step for how hard she was panting.

“Not use to girl shoes,” he shot back, equally out of breath. He was getting closer now, but he had slowed to a brisk walk. He stuck his tongue out at her as he finally made it up to the steps and unlocked the door. “Not _twice_ my size, either.”

Alex clasped her hands together, pressing them against one cheek. “Aw, what a gentleman! Next thing I know, you’re going to be tellin’ me how beautiful I am!”

They held tight to each other as they swayed from the front of the trailer to the back, before they kicked their boots off and started to undress. She was so exhausted, pajamas never even crossed her mind. Evidently, Mac didn’t care much to change into them, either. He was far too busy kissing the back of her neck while his hands snuck around to her breasts.

“I’m too tired for all that,” she complained. Not to mention full; she had been making it a point to show him as many different foods as possible during their short trip. “Can we do it in the morning instead? Please?”

He nodded, resting his chin on her shoulder. His hair tickled her ear. “Yeah… morning… Will you stay up and talk with me, though?”

She agreed, despite how much she was looking forward to sleep. The way he’d asked was casual, but there was still something a bit urgent about it. Like if she didn’t stay up with him, then something bad might happen. The bad thing might just be that he would get lonely, as he often did when she was busy elsewhere, or it might be much worse. She would rather just keep him company for a bit than take a risk. Besides, he usually did all the talking.

Curled up in a ball beside him, Alex rested her head against his stomach and watched quietly as he stared up at the curtains hanging over the bed. The thin fabric waved slightly when a gusty wind picked up outside. A storm was probably blowing in soon, but tomorrow, they would leave for the coast. She’d heard of a little port settlement there that had a decent enough doctor. When the howling eventually died down, he rolled his head against the mound of pillows to look down at her.

“Did you wan-”

“I’m so fuckin’ glad these weird long neck cat things were always just fakes, cause I used to be terrified of them as a kid,” he said, slurring pretty heavily. It was almost as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, it was so absurd. Then she burst out laughing when she realized he was being completely serious.

“What the hell? They’re called _dinosaurs_ and yes, they were real!” she cried, watching his eyes grow wide and his jaw drop to the floor.

“Did… they live around truck stops or something? Why is this fake one here?” Mac asked, genuinely concerned now. His eyes darted to the window, probably to make sure there wasn’t a stray outside. “That seems really dangerous for one of them to be walking around a bunch of cars.”

Alex slapped her hands over her eyes, only laughing harder now. It took a while for her to get it under control. He didn’t seem nearly as amused and she thought that it probably made him a bit mad. Definitely embarrassed, by the way his cheeks burned pink. She shook her head and groped for his hand, giving it a gentle pat when she found it. “Oh no, cuddle bug, they’ve been extinct for millions or billions of years. They put this one up to sell gas or coolant or whatever the fuck they still sold here,” she said in a tone one might use with a small child, though it wasn’t entirely on purpose.

His eyebrows drew in tight. A minute or two went by while he thought about it, staring out the window again. “That’s dumb, but alright.”

If he said anything else, she didn’t hear it. Exhaustion, on top of all the alcohol, forced her eyes shut and she was fast asleep before he could get the chance to open his mouth again. A few minutes later, he would tuck her into bed and she would wake up beside him in the exact spot he had left her.

***

A handful of fishing boats floated lazily at the edge of the horizon, surrounded by a cloud of gulls. Their strangled cries made it all the way to the crumbling seawall. Early afternoon sunlight glittered on the wet sand that drifted in low piles and smooth canyons. Low, meandering waves brought thick handfuls of seaweed, some shells, a lost jellyfish, and a half dead crab. The gulls descended on the crab like flashes of lightening, their beaks pecking and cracking and pulling at the poor thing. One abandoned the other half of a starfish in favor of the fresher meal. A ferry horn echoed across the beach from somewhere almost too far away to hear.

Dogmeat barked away a group of nasty, blistered gulls as the three of them made their way across the pier. While Alex would have preferred to take her time, Mac was marching away from her with a swiftness she rarely saw anymore. That wasn’t to say it had anything to do with her. He hated anything to do with the ocean and nothing she could say would sway him from that (she’d tried). But she thought the ocean was lovely to watch from a distance, at least, and it was beginning to upset her that he wouldn’t stop for even a second.

“Wait! I wanna look before we get there! It’s not storming today!” she called out. That didn’t even get him to look over his shoulder. Of course not. She jogged after him, still shouting for him to stop. “Rob, seriously! Stop for just a fuckin’ second!”

There was only a moment of hesitation before he kept right on marching. It wasn’t until he must have realized she wasn’t following him that he turned back with a grimace. “I told you, I don’t wanna stand around on the beach. You can go on your own if you want, I don’t care!” he shouted back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Now come on!”

“Why do you hate the ocean so much, huh? I know it smells but that’s not a good enough reason to hate it _that_ much.” Alex had caught up to him now and they walked side-by-side. He tossed her a sneer and she threw it right back, however teasing.

“What the hell do you mean it’s not a _good enough_ reason? It’s a reason! I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you!” he countered, giving her a side-glance. They were nearly to the end of the pier, where they would have to either take a long, winding detour or walk across the sand. He was probably going to force them onto the detour.

“I’m your fiancé! I just wanna know!” She threw her hands up, incredulous. “What, did your teddy bear get swept away when you were little? Did a mermaid dump you? Did Poseidon himself beat the shit out of you?!”

Well, she had hoped to get a laugh out of him, but no luck there. Mac just pursed his lips and continued walking. “It smells terrible, sand is a pain in the neck, and it makes me seasick. Is that _good enough_ for you?”

Dogmeat ran headfirst across the beach as they reached the end of the pier, kicking up sprays of sand behind each paw. A small crowd of gulls took off for the safety of the air to avoid him. Mac gave an exasperated sigh as he watched them circle overhead and squawk incessantly. She guessed that meant they weren’t taking the detour.

“How do you know it makes you seasick if you won’t even get close to it?” she asked skeptically, though she only meant to tease him more. Her eyes squinted into slits as she stared up at him, taking his arm in both hands.

Mac adjusted his hat as they stepped down and squished their way through the sand. “One of the first caravans I ever ran was to a shi- er, a little island called Point Lookout. The boat ride took about a week, one way. I almost stayed put when we got there, but… the place weirded me out,” he said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “So, trust me, I _know_.”

With Dogmeat still leading the way, they followed along the edge of the beach until they reached another pier. This one was much busier than the last, with plenty of settlers wandering the docks and streets that forked in every direction. Another dog yipped at Dogmeat as it passed with a group of children chasing behind. On their left, a woman glanced up for a moment, then went right back to sweeping her porch. Nobody seemed to pay them much attention, which was probably a good thing.

Alex turned down the second street they came to and walked about a block before the market opened up around them. As with most markets in most settlements, each stall was crammed against its neighbors, merchandise taking up every square inch available. The stalls were arranged in a loose ring, with a livestock pen in the middle. The pen was split into sections; brahmin, then longhorns, then hogs, and finally a spot for all the smaller livestock like chickens and goats. Seafood was in plentiful supply, of course, and Mac wrinkled his nose as they squeezed past those shops. They decided not to stop until after the business they had come for.

On the other side of the pen, they came to an incredibly tiny stall filled top to bottom with homemade medicines and supplies. Stuck shoulder-to-shoulder between the shelves was a frail man who couldn’t have been any younger than 90. It was a wonder anyone could survive to that age in the wasteland, but she supposed that if one stayed within the safety of a settlement like this, one could live to be as old as their body would allow. He offered a warm smile and a nod as she approached him, though he didn’t stand to greet her. She didn’t much mind.

“Well, I’m happy to see a new face, and a healthy one at that! Locals call me Dr. J. Anything I can help you with, you just let me know,” he said, gesturing towards the shelves. His tone was good-natured and his voice wavered with age, though surprisingly, he could still be heard easily over the sounds of the market.

“Actually, I was hoping you could help me with a symptom,” Alex said. Dr. J. nodded and offered her a stool from underneath a shelf, which she took before explaining about the leak from her nose, her robotic spine, and her nerve damage. Standing patiently behind her, Mac filled in a few details here and there as well.

Dr. J. listened intently to them both and when she was done, he carefully examined her nose, ears, and mouth and asked plenty of questions. He was thorough, which immediately made her think he would be of help. But soon, he clicked his penlight off and shook his head. “Oh dear, I’m afraid this may be a bit much for me to handle. I’ve seen plenty of illnesses over the years, but nothing quite like this. You have something which must be exceedingly rare nowadays and it’s not something I’ve ever studied. I don’t doubt your story, but… I wouldn’t know how to help,” he said sadly, patting her hand.

“So, you don’t think it’s just allergies, then?” Mac asked for her, almost as if he could read her thoughts. He was leaning against a post now, hands in his pockets. The way he said it suggested he was trying hard not to snap.

“No, I don’t believe it is. If the leak is only ever on one side, then it doesn’t sound typical of an allergy. Besides, there are no other symptoms to accompany it, other than the pain between the eyes.” Dr. J. sighed and shook his head again. “I’m very sorry. I truly wish I could help.”

“Is there anyone you know of that might at least know what it is? I understand if not…” Alex murmured. She was used to receiving no help, but it was still frustrating.

Dr. J. thought about it for a moment, periodically tilting his head side to side. Then he slowly nodded and made a vague gesture out into the market. “Yes, I do happen to know of someone. A group of physicians, actually. I’ve never met them, but they’re known to take on cases of great difficulty. It’s rumored that they have a cache of pre-war equipment, too. Unfortunately, I only know that they’re located somewhere in Mexico, perhaps to the east. If you travel out that way, I’m sure the people there will know which direction to point you in.”

Mexico. Much further than they had planned for, but it would have to work.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a cute fluffy chapter for your heart, with a little poke in there at the end :) 
> 
> I hate to announce this, but unfortunately, I'm going to have to put this fic on hiatus for a few weeks, starting December 16. For those that don't know, I have the same spinal cord disease that Alex does. It's pretty rare and I wanted to see a character that could deal with it's problems and still be an apocalyptic badass. As far as I know, this series is the only piece of fiction featuring a main character with syringomyelia! But, like Alex, I'm at a very dangerously high risk of becoming paralyzed and I've decided to go ahead with a surgery that should correct the issue. I expect it to go very well - so does my surgeon - and I'll be back a few weeks after it's over and I head home from the hospital. I truly hope you guys will stick with me afterwards. It would mean a lot to me, both as a writer and as a regular person writing directly from their own experiences. And even if you decide not to return, thank you for making it this far with me and Alex. :)
> 
> Last update before hiatus will be Saturday December 9. The first post-hiatus update is expected in January. Please subscribe, bookmark, or follow my tag to be alerted!


	6. Dusty Skies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another thousand or so miles later, the pair stop off in a small town for the night with the idea they'll have a fun little break for a few hours.

“Okay, we’re just gonna stop here cause my back is killing me.”

Both car doors slammed shut as they got out, and then Mac leaned over the roof toward her. With a tilt of his head, he gave her a little smile and a wink. “Y’know, you could always show me how to drive. There’s no one out there in the desert to run over. And if there _is_ someone out there to hit, well, they probably deserve it,” he joked. When she gave him an exhausted glare, he snickered and pushed himself away from the car. “C’mon, at least just think about it!”

“If you hit a rock, we’d be screwed. So, unless you wanna walk back to the Commonwealth, the answer is _no_ ,” she countered, carefully stretching upward. A loud, hollow pop in her spine made her groan and she slid her sunglasses up her nose. She’d been wearing them for so long, she didn’t know how they hadn’t simply fused to her face. “Could you get my first aid pack? I think I need a Med-X.”

The Corvega was tucked behind a seemingly abandoned ranch which – surprise, surprise - wasn’t filled to the brim with raiders. There were, however, several signs that had been put up sometime in the last decade or so, all with similar variations of “No pasar,” or no trespassing. Most other decorations had either fallen or been ripped down and the paint on the buildings wasn’t just peeling, but nearly all gone in most spots. The house near the front of the property was missing a door and all of its windows, and half of the roof had caved in. The barn was really the only building left standing, though a large, dead tree had fallen against one side of it at some point. Only a few barrel cacti took up home in the sunniest spots of the yard. Alex sent Dogmeat to make a quick once-over of the place, though he soon trotted back to her side with nothing but a floppy tongue and a wagging tail. That was good enough for now. They’d probably make a more careful inspection once she’d gotten a dose of pain meds.

A half-full syringe, dented slightly on one side, was held out as Mac looked on with mild apprehension. She took the Med-X, leaned up against the side of the car, and slid her rolled denim sleeve a bit higher. There was another needle mark inside her elbow, almost completely faded. She chewed her lip as her eyes rolled over it to the tip of the needle, which she quickly jabbed into her vein with a sort of grace and pushed the plunger to the first click. Only one dose was fine for now. Relief was already beginning to spread through her shoulders and down her back in cool waves. She rolled her shoulders as the pain drew to a minimum. Then, Mac offered a gentle rub down her back.

“If I’m remembering right, there’s a beach a couple blocks that way and a bit to the south. There would probably be a settlement there, too. Are you getting hungry?” she said as she tucked the syringe into her first aid pack. The supply was beginning to dwindle, but it wasn’t dangerously low. Yet.

“Don’t have to be to when I’m looking forward to something new.” He smirked and held up a hand. “Shall I accompany you, Lady Alex?”

That made her giggle and she took his hand, swinging their arms together as they wandered from the ranch into the dirt road. Dogmeat raced ahead with a playful bark and a cloud of dust, as usual. It was a quiet walk, for the most part. The worst they came across was a group of giant rats snuffling around the body of a feral on the side of the road, which they quickly dispatched with a few shots and some help from Dogmeat. A friendly caravan turned onto the same road that they walked and the merchants, a female couple, were happy enough to give them directions to a tiny settlement named Villa Esmeril. With the sun just beginning to set far behind them, they thanked the women and continued on their way.

After a mile or so, the squat buildings began to grow thick and the sounds of a raucous crowd echoed in and out of the alleyways. Eventually, they made it to the beach, or what was left of it. The ocean had risen high enough that the tide lapped against the side of the road with no seawall to hold it back. Clumps of rotting seaweed and broken shells littered the street and they gave it a wide berth, though it was more for Mac’s sake than hers. He turned his face away, wrinkling his nose. When she pointed to the half-eaten carcass of a beached killer whale – which did, in fact, smell horrendous – his face contorted into the most disgusted grimace she had ever seen as he made a show of gagging. Alex giggled and wrapped an arm around his waist as they continued south.

Strings of lights in the hundreds, along with colorful banners, flags, stars of paper and metal, and other decorations fluttered and swayed above the dozens of people milling about in the town square. Open bazaar stalls stood here and there, selling everything from seafood, meat, and spices to beautiful clothing and home goods. The stall owners called out, each a bit louder than the last to stand out in the crowd. A grinning young woman in a bright pink and blue dress rushed to Alex’s side with a thin wooden box. Inside was an array of handmade jewelry decorated with sea glass and semi-precious stones. Alex kindly shook her head at the offering, though she did buy a perfect, spotted sea shell that was nearly the size of her head. She held it to her ear for a moment before tucking it away in her pack.

Despite the abandoned buildings surrounding the small town, what _was_ being used was surprisingly well-preserved. Even the tree in the center of the square was still growing, although it was obviously mutated at some point during or after the Great War. Its branches grew in twisted, haphazard stalks with patches of leaves so thick it was a wonder they thrived at all. But between the leaves and branches were even more lights, some blinking, some twinkling starkly against the nearly black sky. It was beautiful in its own way, really. Before they passed on in search of a bite to eat, Mac pulled the camera from her pack and she asked a friendly passerby to take a photo. The man obliged, clearly excited to get to use a real, working camera.

“Gracias, señor. Además, ¿usted sabe, uh, dónde encontrar un buen lugar para comer?” Alex asked the man as he gingerly handed the camera back. He nodded and pointed toward a green adobe building on her right. Large bottle glass windows filled the front wall and beer signs covered much of the remaining space. The heavy wooden door was wide open, letting mariachi music pour out into the street, and the sign hanging above it read Viboras Cantina.

“Este lugar es el mejor! Si usted paga un honorario cada, le traerán la cerveza y tanto como usted quiere comer,” he said, smiling wide.

They thanked the man again and headed for the cantina, where – sure enough – it was only 40 caps per person for as much food and beer as they wanted. Mac gladly handed over the caps, and then they were shown to a wide table covered in tiny, hand-painted tiles. Only a single light bulb, covered by a rusted tomato can, hung overhead, which made the corner quite dim. Neither of them minded much, especially not once a bucket filled with cold beers found its way to their table. Shortly after that, the leftover space was filled with generous portions of meat and seafood of all sorts, along with salsa, guacamole, chips, and tortillas.

“Holy shi-! Holy crap! We get _all_ of this?!” Mac cried, shooting her a wide-eyed look of disbelief.

“Yeah, and she said they’ll bring more if we want,” Alex answered casually. Her shrug was entirely nonchalant, like she had done this a million times before. “You don’t have to ask, though. They’ll just bring it.”

“What the hell… I don’t even know where to start, much less what half this stuff is!” He pulled one of the nearest bowls closer and was just about to try a huge spoonful when Alex gently smacked his hand away. “Hey! What was that for?” he grumbled.

“That’s ceviche. Raw fish in it. Can’t have it,” she said through a bite. As she swallowed, she rearranged some of the bowls so that most of the fish was on her side. Then she pointed to each bowl as she rattled off what they were. “You can have these. This is roast goat called cabrito and what I have is like… oh, pork and chile sauce. It’s really good. There’s chicken and brahmin tacos over there, queso, guacamole, enchiladas, too. Just try a little of everything!”

She smiled lovingly as he filled his plate with tacos full to bursting and whatever else he could cram in next to them. Hell, he was so focused on his plate that he never even noticed her watching. Getting to try all sorts of new food was easily his favorite thing about their trip and she was ecstatic that he really was having a good time now. When their stacks of empty bowls and plates were suddenly replaced with new dishes, he gave her a look like a kid let loose in a candy store. It was so adorable, she couldn’t help but giggle.

After a few hours and a few more buckets worth of beer, she held up a bite on the end of her fork. “Hey… can y’eat shrimp?” she asked, unable to help the tiny slur in her words. That last beer was probably just one too many.

Mac lazily rolled his head toward her. After a second of staring at her fork, he just shrugged and said, “I dunno. Only one way to find out, I guess.” She popped it into his mouth and got a happy hum in return. “Mhmm, it’s goooood…”

“I don’t remember what this is called, but it’s some pork thing.” Another little bite was held out for him and then she got yet another, though he didn’t take it at first. “Did you try this yet? I think it’s squid or maybe octopus. Somethin’.”

“Nah, I haven’t tried it, but I’m feelin’ pretty full already, babe,” he said, shaking his head. The rest of his beer was finished off in one go before he reached for the last one in the bucket. Of course, more would be along soon, if they could drink them. Or rather, if _he_ could drink them. She was done for the night.

Alex frowned, her lower lip pouting. “There’s only a few left! I just want you to try ‘em!”

“Okay, but only a few,” he sighed. “Too much more and you’re gonna be carrying me back to the car.”

Well, if she was supposed to be counting… she wasn’t. All she meant to do was to find out what he liked! And as long as he ate them, she kept getting more bites. Between the alcohol, the crowd dancing around them, and the mariachi band, they were both quite distracted, although it only took a little more than a dozen bites or so before his brow furrowed and he waved her away with a hand.

“What, are you trying to make me explode?”

“Ooooh, no, I’m sorry!” she cried, rubbing his back as he leaned against the table and lit a cigarette. He offered her one and passed her the lighter. She preferred to do it herself.

Mac tapped a finger against the rim of the empty bucket. “Is that why they put these buckets on the table? So, when your girlfriend feeds you too much, you can just puke really quick and not have to get up?” he said, barely holding back a chuckle.

She made a disgusted face, but that didn’t stop her from joking right back as she patted his stomach. “Yeah, it’d make some more room in there.”

“That’s gross.”

“You brought it up!”

“Yeah, well, you’re carrying me to the car. Shouldn’t have parked so damn far away.” He leaned back against the bench as he smoked, only half-watching the band now.

Alex bit her lip to keep from giggling more as she plopped the bucket down in front of him. “No, here! You had the right idea!” she teased, taking a deep drag from her cigarette. When he gave her a disapproving sneer, she gestured toward it. “Well, go on. I wanna go to sleep. Do you want me to hold your hand or something?”

“No, I need you to hold my hair. It’s too pretty to get puked on!” he said in a whiny impression of her. A smirk grew on his face and he twirled a lock of her hair around his finger.

“Don’t make fun of me like this!” She frowned sadly, then lowered her voice as she went on. “I was drunk…”

He snickered. “I know you were, and it was hilarious! And you’re drunk now, so we should stop arguing about it and just let nature take its course.”

“Fifty caps says you barf before we’re even halfway back to the car,” Alex said, waving a finger at him. All he responded with was a shrug as they stood and headed for the door. Dogmeat trotted along behind them, clearly happy to be going home no matter what happened on the way.

***

“Hey bitch, where’s my fifty caps?”

Mac groaned as he sat up in the bed, his hair a sweaty mess, and blinked the morning sunlight out of his eyes. From the kitchen, Alex watched him with a sweet giggle. She was busy making eggs, sausage and toast for breakfast, while the tea she’d bought a few days before steeped on the counter. Underneath the table, Dogmeat was enjoying his own breakfast and the little tidbits of sausage that she tossed him every so often.

“Well, good morning to you, too,” Mac called back grumpily. After a while, he slowly got out of bed and shuffled into the kitchen. Probably hungover and exhausted, but he usually had a hard time sleeping in, especially when they didn’t have curtains to block out the windows. From behind, he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin against her shoulder. “Cheater. I’ll give you your caps later.”

Once they’d eaten their breakfast in sleepy silence, the two got ready to head back out into the bazaar. She’d meant to ask the night before about the doctors, but they had been too hungry to stop for long and of course, they hadn’t been in any state to ask around on their way home. So now, they had to walk all the way back and hope that the friendliness of the locals from the day before hadn’t run out.

Thankfully, they were in luck! Or, so they thought.

Everyone they met was still surprisingly friendly and as helpful as could be, but not a single person had heard of the doctors she was searching for. Most would only refer her to the town doctor, who turned out to be about as helpful as Dr. J. Even he had no idea what she was talking about! By the time the sun was beginning to set, Alex had grown frustrated.

“Come on, you need a drink. We’ll drive to the next settlement tomorrow and ask there. But for now, don’t worry about it,” Mac said. He rubbed her shoulder as she gnashed her teeth and swiped at her nose. “You’re just making it worse when you get upset.”

“I’m not upset! And I’m not making it worse!” she snapped, throwing a hand up.

He gently took her hand, running a thumb over her skin. “Yeah, it leaks more when you get angry. It’s leaking a lot right now, see? Let’s just… get something to eat for now, have a drink or two, whatever.”

Her throat tightened up and she looked away, suddenly afraid she would cry. But she let him keep holding her hand, at least. That was helping. Maybe. “I just don’t- This doesn’t happen. I don’t know what this is. I mean, what if it’s-”

“Look, you know I’m terrible about this sorta thing, but… you aren’t dying!” Mac smiled and she knew he was trying. He was. He was just awful at it. “If it was really bad, you would, y’know, be dead. Or dying. So, it must not-”

“But I think I know what it is! And if I’m right, then it _is_ bad!” Alex cried. Hot tears finally slid down her cheeks, the first she’d cried in a while. “I know I’m not a doctor, I don’t even come close, but I know enough about what I have to know what sort of complications I can get with it! And I know this has to be one!”

At first, he only wrapped his arms around her and let her cry. He’d learned that, sometimes, it was better than rambling on about something stupid. Although this time, she’d actually have preferred if he kept talking, if only to keep her own thoughts quiet for a second. But he didn’t, not at first, so instead she focused on his warm chest and his hands against her back.

“We’ll find them. They have to be around here somewhere,” he murmured, still holding her close.

All she could really do was squeeze her eyes shut and nod. If they weren’t around, there was a chance she would never make it back to the Commonwealth. And most of all, she worried about what might happen to Mac if something _did_ happen to her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote this chapter about two weeks ago, so it's an interesting coincidence that me and alex are both in a similar boat right this minute. hopefully we both end up having the same outcome, too ;)
> 
> This is the last update before this fic goes on hiatus for 2-4 weeks. Afterwards, updates will resume every Saturday as normal. Be sure to subscribe, bookmark, or follow my tumblr tag #squintsofficialwriting to know when I begin posting again! Thanks again for sticking with me, and I hope to see you all soon!


	7. Indefinite Hiatus?

Hey guys, squints here. Wanted to pop in for an update and let you all know that my surgery went much better than expected, although the recovery has been a bit up and down. I'm no longer in a lot of pain, which is fantastic, so I really can't complain about the recovery taking longer than was expected. I'm actually still recovering two months out and I have a second surgery coming up in the next few months to remove an old implant I don't need anymore, but otherwise I feel so much better now that it's all over!

I realize it has been quite a bit longer than I said the fic would be on hiatus for, and for that I apologize. Between muscle spasms, losing my old job and having to get a new one, and more than likely putting my cat down this or next week, I'm not writing my best. I've tried to put the story down, but it just isn't coming out the way that I want it to and I'd hate to wrap up this great plot in a way that I'm not happy with. I had two more long fics in the series planned after this one (yeah, I can hear the screams of anguish now lol) that I would have to seriously reconsider if I force a different story to happen. I'm not saying I'm leaving this project, because I really do want to finish it, but I need to find the right inspiration before I come back to it.

I may or may not post other content until Homecoming is ready. Possibly some shorter fics, but nothing for sure right now. Everything that's already up will stay, though. I don't have plans to remove anything. Anyway, sorry guys. :(


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